Chapter Text
Deadpool:
Seven long years. It had taken so many drunken nights, abandoned shacks, shootouts, wounds, fallen comrades, and so many memories, both good and bad, to bring today to the present. For everyone. Now they’re all assembling outside the gates of hell. The mission has been met, or at least for now it has. We’re breaking free, no longer staring so closely into death’s grim face.
Now she’s walking towards me, with those others from the past, and the faces of our present and futures. Her eyes gleam cold in the desert heat, something of the many pains her soul has held closely. If only reaching out to her was an option, she’s so close but still so far away.
There stands the leader, shoulders heaving in angst, but still held high from the duty resting upon them. Red and blue dances all over his figure, hot and cold. Right and wrong. Party Poison’s boots crunch the sand below his tired feet, leaving a trail that fades in the stirring breeze like sand in an hourglass.
The acrid smell of the desert air enshrouds the senses. The hint of cigarettes assaults the nose as the remaining killjoys draw closer. Exhaust clings to a few of them and the other zone runners. The scent of gunpowder and burnt somethings all waft on whatever breezes caress the area and its inhabitants.
Many voices stir around the area, high pitches and low. Some female voices nearly whisper about the men, whether they died or live. Some men discuss the outcome in gravelly tones, a chill seeping through. Warm excitement lace more voices than not. There is hope in the plastic rectangle.
“Okay, mask off, Zone Runner.” Pony’s voice calls from behind me with distrust tinging the very timbre of it. The business end of his blaster bluntly shoved itself into the back of my skull, a few other guns come up and are pointed on me. She’s holding one over my heart. Her eyes hold no trust or love as they once did. She’s there, but not the one I recall, time has changed her, making her body old, but the person new and harder. I raise my hands in surrender, leaving one in the air as the other moves to pull the mask off my head from behind.
The warm desert air is still cooler as the somewhat breathable fabric is taken away. Slowly it comes off, first from my neck, then ears, hair, finally my face. I blink into the bright light still gathered and sinking on the horizon. She gasps and says nothing, her aim faltering before her resolve returns and the gun affixes above my heart once more. Why?
The two beside her pause though. With their guns still aimed on me, they let their eyes communicate recognition and hope. I remember them. Just like the infiltration when BL/Ind tried to kidnap Electric Revenge, as I stood, pretending to be another drone for them, shooting those who had switched from stun to kill in the early days. They had been carried out to Pony somehow. They’re still alive. They don’t know though, I’m a mystery and untrusted now. Stranger in a less than strange place.
“Nate.” One voice finally whispers, not the voice I want, but one from that past nonetheless. I give as good a bow as I can with guns trained on me.
“How in the hell did you survive?” The twin to that voice carries on the wind. His blunt curiosity and hidden accusations blended together as so many times before, in that other lifetime. That simpler yet somehow more complex lifetime.
“Aiden, Em, you have not aged but a day since Doomsday.” I say, feeling the cordial greeting fall as flat as a gunned down Drac. I’m still untrusted. New. Pony sings a few lines behind me, something about scary teenagers. One of her old favorites, does she still like it? Does she still like me? She won’t meet my eyes, only keeping them trained on the dust at her feet or the gun cradled in her hands.
“He isn’t reacting.” Aiden- no not Aiden anymore Cyanide Rose stated. His eyes glancing past mine to Show Pony, lowering his gun as he speaks.The others follow suit, and the whole crowd in turn relaxes. The leather clad quintet of men still glance and whisper, their war painted faces hold some dissatisfaction at the trust, but that is only fair of them.
“Who are you.” A blonde man with a fedora asks, his tone dark with apprehension, and a few men around him nod in agreement with the question.
“I am Deadpool, I used to be Nate. I hate BL/Ind and want to watch their world burn to bring back ours, but I used to be a kid living in Michigan pre-doom. I have been searching for somebody I lost long ago and figured was a shadow in the desert, all while working to destroy that city and its creators from the inside out. I loved that zone runner right there. Still do. Do you remember me, Narcotic?” She still wouldn’t meet my eyes.
There was suddenly a gasp from a purple and black Zone Runner. A Trans Am with an American Widow had just pulled up behind the gathered crowd. As the doors opened there was a scream of excitement from in the mass of colorful people. Out of the back rolled Dr. D, Electric Revenge chattering excitedly from alongside him. That wasn’t who they were looking at. Two men walked stiffly behind the doctor. One had a red leather jacket and a smashed helmet under his skinny arm. There were gauze bandages wrapped around his head, the other arm in a sling. The second man had somewhat singed, and curly hair, his one eye covered with a patch, dried blood crusted on his cheek. Everyone froze while the pair looked between the crowd and each other before calling “Keep Running!” which had everyone cheering and diverted their attention from me. A perfect chance to pass the switch and fade into the masses. Adrenaline and Cyanide stood with Narcotic Prism and a few other Motor Babies I vaguely remembered.
“E-Adrenaline.” I said, keeping a few feet distance, each pair of eyes looked up. I held out the killswitch and ducked my head before looking her in the eye. “This is yours and the others honor. I just hid, you busted ass to survive.” She looked at me with her head cocked for a minute before smiling and taking the switch. I slipped a little into the crowd, just behind Narcotic. Cyanide ran and grabbed the killjoys who from a few unheard words and gestures between the five men, had the killjoy quartet clambering onto a few car roofs with the switch unceremoniously passed to them from Adrenaline. Everyone silenced and looked up to them almost as soon as they were standing.
“Listen up. We are at a monumental day, killjoys. Remember this for your many years to come.” At this the fedora guy shouted for centuries . “This is the end of Battery City. The fall of BL/Ind headquarters. We won! Killjoys make some noise!” and with that, he pressed the big red button.